Basilisk, King of Serpents
by donahermurphy
Summary: Oneshot. He's hungry, bored, and severely annoyed. Riddle's been bossing him about for weeks. And who on earth is Barry Cotter?


**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter. In all likelihood, nobody reading this owns Harry Potter, either. Review, don't sue.

So there I was, minding my own business, (all right, maybe eating the occasional pet rat or toad that wandered into the wrong pipe or got flushed down the toilet, but for the most part minding my own business) when this little red-haired kid comes into my nice, quiet den.

And I swear, it's the whole Riddle business all over again. I mean, really. I am Lord Voldemort, blah, blah blah. Help me in my plan for world domination, blah, blah, blah. I'm so great, I was Head Boy when I was alive, blah, blah, blah.

His _conversation _was getting pretty blah, if you ask me. Which he didn't. All about him, it was. Unless he wanted something done. Then it was all, "Basilisk, King of Serpents, aid me in my quest to rid the world of impure filth." Please.

Like humans are all that tasty, anyway. I mean, I only tasted one once -a small female about fifty years ago- but _eurgh. _I mean _that _was _sick_- no fur at _all_, I swear. Not even any scales. And everyone made such a big fuss afterwards. Some people just don't know how to leave a snake in peace.

So I wasn't too keen on biting humans again, especially not for this fellow. But Riddle (who'd explained in mind-numbing detail how he had so cleverly come to possess some stupid little first year) was all, "I will defeat your great enemy, the rooster, and insure that you will no longer have to fear its crowing," which kind of pleased me, because I hadn't had chicken in quite a while.

I should have known it was too good to be true. No give without gain for fellows like Riddle. The next day, during one of his self-congratulating rants, he was telling me the "benefits" of my eternal service. (And may I just mention that I hadn't agreed to any such thing with the little- well, I'm getting ahead of myself. Back to the subject. )

Apparently, one of these benefits was the opportunity to enter the outside world, to leave my den and aid Riddle in "cleansing the school of filth and Muggle-loving fools." I _was_ kind of excited, because I hadn't seen the school in a while, and I wouldn't mind a trip out. I wasn't too sure about the cleaning part, though.

And it was in this state of mind that I entered the outside world for the first time in fifty years.

It wasn't as fun as it sounded. My "mission" was to explore the piping system, so that the "Mudbloods won't know what's coming when you attack them." If there is an activity more boring and disgusting than traveling through hundred- year old pipes full of…_waste_, I don't know what it is.

I decided to try and liven things up a tad.

_ "Come… Come to me…let me rip you… let me tear you… let me kill you…"_ I had the voice just right, I decided. Cold and threatening. It was a shame nobody was around to hear me. (Not that they would have understood what I was saying, but everyone likes an audience.) At midnight, the castle was nearly empty, and the few people awake (mostly workaholic teachers or poor sods off in detention) would dismiss a strange hissing sound as the imaginings of a tired mind.

By the time I was done mapping out the pipes, it was nearly four, and the only person I had even slightly unnerved was some skinny black-haired kid who looked permanently jittery anyway. I was awfully frustrated when I went back to my den, though a bit less annoyed with Riddle, who had to deal with these people all the time.

Next time, I decided, I would give the students of Hogwarts a nice scare.

I didn't go out again for the next few weeks, and my dislike of the "Heir of Slytherin" returned in full force. By this point, I was pretty hungry. There had been no sign of the promised chicken, and Riddle was scaring all the game away with his noise and prancing around. (Loudest human I've ever seen, I swear.) He ranged from long, extremely boring speeches on how he'd get some kid called Barry Cotter or whatever, to the occasional manic rants on "my Muggle scum of a father."

I mean, _hello_. Issues much. _My_ father was a _toad_, and you don't see _me_ complaining.

But anyway, I happened to mention I was hungry, hoping to convey the impression that I'd eat him if he didn't get out. Totally passed over his head. He got really excited, "You will dine, on human blood tonight, my sweet, on All Hallows Eve, and all shall see the power of the Heir of Slytherin."

I was a little disturbed at being called Riddle's "sweet", and was tempted to say something like "_I'm called _King _of the Serpents for a _reason_, you blockhead," _but it didn't seem worth the rant that would undoubtedly follow. And I was in a fairly good mood, so I let it pass.

After all, I was going outside today. I hadn't been out in _ages_, and my den was no longer the quiet sanctuary it once was, thanks to Riddle. I wasn't too sure about dining on human blood, but I was hungry, and with Riddle scaring away all the game I couldn't afford to be picky

Not that I saw much of the castle. Oh no, couldn't ruin his precious plan. "We'll strike at night, when that old fool Dumbledore is at the feast with all the other teachers." Never mind that _I_ might want to see the other teachers, or go out for a bit of sunshine. Hmph.

I was still a bit miffed at not being able to have a nice look-see, and being forced to slither through those narrow pipes whenever I wanted to go anywhere. Riddle didn't have to trudge though sewage, I'll tell you that much. All fun and games for him. _I_ was instructed to squeeze myself in one of those narrow little pipes again and wait while he "sent a message to the Mudbloods and blood traitors." Please.

I took a quick peek, and it turns his "message" pretty much amounted to painting the wall red. _Hello_, what kind of message is that? Was he telling them to redecorate, or something? This conclusion did seem to tally with my assessment of Riddle's mental stability, although I had no idea why he would choose a Gryffindor color. Perhaps he was tired of silver and green.

When I was roaming through the plumbing system, waiting around for Riddle to call me to "initiate the second phase of my devious plan" (he actually said that), I decided to make good on my promise to give the students of Hogwarts a nice scare. I mean, here I was, King of the Serpents, traveling invisibly through Hogwarts school- and all I'd done was gripe about Riddle.

The possibilities of causing mayhem were endless. After a bit of thought on how to do this without _directly _disobeying Riddle, I concluded that an invisible hissing sound traveling through the walls on Halloween night would cause the most commotion.

I was wrong.

Those kids must be deaf! I'd been yelling as loud as I could for _ages_, and they _still _hadn't heard me. I mean, I know they didn't know what I'm saying, Parseltongue is rare, but come on, surely someone would have noticed _hissing walls._

Now my chance was gone- everyone was at the feast, talking loudly enough to drown out a Fwooper. I was rather startled when I noticed the noises coming from the steps to the entrance hall. "Pudding might not be finished yet," one voice said. An audience! This was my last chance- I had to make it good.

_ "Rip… tear…kill…" _Sweet and simple. They didn't seem to notice me though, as they stated to inquire about the health of some fellow called Larry, who abruptly told them to "shut up a minute." Polite fellow, Larry.

Perhaps a bit more drama? _"..soo hungry… for so long.." _So then Larry starts telling them to listen, and _I_ start (metaphorically) kicking myself. I should have known better than to try and make my presence known to a couple of teenagers- they're so self-absorbed it's amazing they hear anything at all. I resolved to make a last-ditch attempt before I went. _"..kill… time to kill…_" I hissed as I traveled through the pipes to meet up with Riddle.

It was quite a surprise when Larry whoever led the kids in following me. Was there another Parselmouth at the school? Maybe little Larry wasn't as self-absorbed as I thought. In appreciation of their interest, I gave them an encore performance. _"I smell blood… I SMELL BLOOD!" _And with my finale, I slithered back through the pipes to Riddle.

He didn't seem to realize I was only performing, and tells me that I may "sate my hunger" by killing some cat. It wasn't even looking at me, just staring at the water, and I was thinking_ "This is the easiest kill yet,_" as I prepared for the first meal I'd had in weeks.

I was wondering why Riddle was telling me to kill a _cat_, as he'd been so keen on me drinking human blood, but my stomach was growling so I pushed the thought aside. It didn't matter. I took a nice, big bite.

Correction- I _tried_ to take a nice, big bite. Apparently the cat found a way to turn itself to stone. Clearly it's a powerfully magical creature, capable of self-transfiguration at a moment's notice. A very clever way to avoid being eaten, I must say.

Riddle didn't seem to mind, though. He hung the cat up by the wall, smug as could be. "Next time," he said. "Next time."

_ Yes. _It was the first time I'd agreed with him.


End file.
